Red Fox
by CJ Lauren
Summary: "Lisbon didn't like how listless Jane seemed, and she kicked herself for not realizing sooner how badly he was doing – not that it would have made a difference." Jane gets kidnapped (again) and Lisbon goes after him. Written for the Oct 2013 monthly challenge on Paint It Red.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Some things are impossible to escape!"

Given their situation, the double meaning wasn't lost on either of them.

"Jane…we're gonna get out of here," Lisbon said quietly.

"Yes," Jane sighed, forcing himself to put on a show of optimism despite the fatigue that was threatening to overtake him. "It's only a matter of time before the team finds us. You never know – maybe we'll still be alive. But we're not going to escape."

"But that wasn't really what you meant," Lisbon stated in the same calm voice. Rarely had she seen Jane so distressed about something that didn't relate to Red John. Then again, for him, _everything_ related to Red John.

Jane looked away, embarrassed that he had shown such vulnerability. He figured the lack of food and water must be getting to him, because he was having trouble remembering how he let their conversation take such a personal turn in the first place.

_Lisbon groaned as her eyes slowly opened, and she took in the darkened room around her. It looked like a bomb shelter, and seemed to be underground, based on the lack of windows and overhead hatch. Feeling the back of her head, she winced. She had taken quite a blow to the head, and a lump the size of a golf ball was making itself known. Eventually, her eyes met Jane's. He was watching her from behind, though it was so dark that she could just barely make out the shape of his body resting against the wall._

_"What?" Lisbon mumbled, confused._

_"How's your head?" Jane looked – and sounded – awful; his voice was weak and scratchy, and Lisbon was sure that if she could get a better look at him, she'd see how pale he was._

_"Hurts. Damn," Lisbon answered, a bit more aware of her surroundings. She realized that he had taken off his vest and rested it over her, and her head was resting on his crumpled-up jacket. _

_"Welcome," Jane said wryly. _

_"This isn't exactly how I expected to find you," Lisbon sighed. "What happened?"_

_Jane lifted his shirt to reveal two red circles. "I was tasered getting out of my car at the motel. Woke up here. No one has come down – except for when they tossed you in – and the door is locked. I think it has been a couple of days, but I'm not really sure." At those words, his stomach growled._

_"When's the last time you ate?" Lisbon asked, not liking how weak he looked. She remembered how involved Jane had been in the case they had been working on – an unidentified girl, about eight years old, had been raped, killed and buried wearing only a letter jacket – and she knew that he probably hadn't eaten much even before he was abducted. She took a moment to be grateful that Cho had forced her to have lunch that day._

_"I don't remember," he sighed. Everything was all mixed up in his head, but he really didn't want to be reminded of how hungry and thirsty he was. "How did you get here?" _

_"We got a trace on your phone, followed it to a house…No one answered the door so I kicked it in. I don't remember anything after that," Lisbon answered. She didn't mention that they had temporarily abandoned the young girl's murder – she knew it would upset him._

_"No back-up?" Jane frowned, disappointed._

_"I didn't want to wait…Our best guess was that you disappeared sometime Monday evening, and it's Wednesday afternoon…at least, it was at the time."_

_"You shouldn't have done that, Lisbon. I've told you before, I'm not worth it." The time alone had left Jane plenty of time to brood. With only his thoughts for company, it's no wonder Jane had sunk into a deep depression._

_"Dammit, Jane! Yes, you are."_

_"No. Look at me, Teresa. I have no life. I haven't in a long time. I'm trapped, in limbo, and I'll never be free. I'll always be the arrogant bastard who caused the deaths of his wife and daughter. I don't _deserve_ to be free."_

_Lisbon stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Her mind was still a bit sluggish, and she had a pounding headache, but his words managed to cut through all of that. For the first time in a long time, she was reminded of just how much Jane was hurting, how much guilt and self-hate and grief he carried around every day. _

_"You're not trapped, Patrick. Okay? We're gonna get out of here. And then…you can get on with your life. You can stop being in limbo. You can escape all of this."_

"I'll never escape," Jane muttered.

"That's a lie," Lisbon insisted. "It's a lie that you've been telling yourself for way too long."

"It's the truth."

"It's a lie that you have convinced yourself is the truth!" Lisbon exclaimed.

Jane laughed harshly, which took up far more of his energy than it should have. "I'm not really in the mood for a philosophical debate, Lisbon…I believe it's true, so for me, it is, no matter what you may think." He sighed. "In another life, if I was a much better person, things might be very different. But I'm not. I'm not that person. I'm not worth saving."

"Whatever happened to 'I'll always save you?'" Lisbon asked gently.

"That's exactly why you shouldn't have risked yourself to find me. _You_ are worth saving, Teresa." Jane was growing visibly frustrated; it was so obvious, so clear to him why she should have turned her back on him, and he couldn't understand why she didn't see it.

Lisbon slowly pushed herself upright, ignoring the intense throbbing in her skull as she did. As soon as she sat up, she wrapped her arms around Jane. "So. Are. You," she told him, slowly and firmly. "Besides, you can't be there to save me if you're dead," she reminded him sarcastically.

Jane sighed, but didn't say anything. He knew that they might die down in that dark hole, and he didn't want to spend that time arguing with her. He didn't have the energy to keep it up, anyways.

"What was your wife like?" Lisbon asked, pulling away so that she was sitting beside him, but they were no longer touching. She felt a bit apprehensive about bringing up a topic that he usually avoided like the plague, but her nervousness was overridden by her determination to convince him that he was worth something.

"She was a much better person than me," Jane said softly.

"Do you talk to her a lot?" She wasn't sure if Jane knew that she had overheard him talking to the young son of a murder victim, telling him that he spoke with his wife, but she hoped he wouldn't be upset.

Jane closed his eyes. "Sometimes."

"What do you talk to her about?"

"Anything."

"Why?"

Jane frowned, and opened his eyes again to search Lisbon's face for clues about her intentions. "What do you mean?"

"You don't believe in any sort of afterlife. You don't believe she is out there somewhere, listening. So why do you talk to her?"

There was a long pause as Jane considered how to respond, how to put the words together to say what he felt. "I miss her. Sometimes it's nice to pretend for a little while," he finally admitted.

"Do you tell her how lonely you are?"

"Sometimes," Jane fudged. Truthfully, he told his wife that all the time.

"What do you think she would say to that?"

Jane closed his eyes again, finally cottoning on to where Lisbon was going with all of her questions.

"She loved me," Jane said quietly, fingering his wedding ring. "She always believed I was worth far more than I really am."

"I think Angela was right," Lisbon said softly. Her deliberate use of his wife's name caused Jane to flinch slightly. In response, she wrapped her hand around his and gently squeezed.

"Oh my God, Jane!"

"Hm?" Jane turned to face her, confusion written all over his face, though it was too dark for Lisbon to see it clearly.

"Your hands are so dry, and cold." Lisbon gently pinched the skin on the top of his hand, and she could feel that the ridge she created did not go away – a sure sign of dehydration. "Have you had anything to drink since you've been here?"

"No," Jane answered.

Lisbon shifted her hand around his so that her fingers were resting on his wrist. His pulse was rapid; even without a clock, she knew it was too fast, and it wasn't nearly as strong as she'd like it to be. "How are you feeling?" She was careful to keep her voice calm, even though she was terrified. She remembered the rule of three's – people could only survive three days without water. It had already been two days, and who knew when he had stopped to drink before he was taken.

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me, Lisbon," Jane said.

"How are you feeling?" Lisbon repeated, this time allowing a hint of panic to seep into her words.

"Tired," Jane muttered. "Thirsty. Hungry. I have a headache. Nothing unexpected."

"Here," Lisbon said, taking his jacket and holding it around him. "Put this back on."

Jane wordlessly slipped his arms through the appropriate holes, and Lisbon fixed it so that it covered him properly.

"We're gonna get out of here, Patrick."

"Mmm," Jane hummed noncommittally. Things were really getting fuzzy, and he was having trouble stringing thoughts together.

Lisbon didn't like how listless Jane seemed, and she kicked herself for not realizing sooner how badly he was doing – not that it would have made a difference. "Do you want to lay down for a while?"

"Gonna sleep," he mumbled in a small voice.

Lisbon froze; she was worried that if he fell asleep, he wouldn't wake up. Then again, she was pretty sure sleeping wouldn't make him die any faster than if he was awake. "Sure. You're pretty tired, hm?" She answered, keeping her tone light and casual.

"So tired," Jane whispered.

"Okay. Lets get you settled, then." Lisbon couldn't get behind him because he was still resting against the wall, so she shifted him sideways and guided his shoulders down, letting his head rest on her thighs as she leaned against the wall. It seemed like he was asleep in seconds, and Lisbon wondered if he had managed to sleep at all since he had been there. If he had been deprived of food, water _and_ sleep, then that would certainly explain his exhaustion. _And_, Lisbon thought, _maybe sleep will actually help him_. She couldn't give him food or water, but she could let him rest.

Lisbon's right hand stroked Jane's hair, and the other held her cross pendant tightly while she prayed to be found soon, before Jane ran out of time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited! I was a bit unsure about this story so it's nice to see that people are enjoying it. There will probably only be one more chapter after this one - it wasn't really meant to be a long story and I have to have it done before the end of the month ;) I hope you enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Lisbon found herself checking Jane's pulse frequently. She noticed that his breathing had become shallower, but faster, and his pulse mirrored that change. The bunker they were in had no windows, only a small battery-operated light in the corner, so she had no idea how much time had passed, but she still worried that he had been asleep for too long.

There were so many things she wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him – again – that he was worth saving. She wanted him to know that he deserves happiness. She wanted to tell him that he was right all along; she _did_ play the clarinet in high school. She didn't want to leave so many things unspoken. It seemed that three quarters of their relationship relied on things they hadn't said.

A sudden banging at the overhead hatch shook Lisbon out of her thoughts. "Jane. _Jane_," she hissed, gently shaking him. She wasn't sure who was up there, but she didn't want to be facing their captors with Jane lying unconscious on top of her. "Come on, Jane, please wake up." She pinched his skin again, this time on his forehead. It seemed even less elastic than before. Pressing her fingers against his throat, she breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse still going.

The hatch suddenly swung open, and Lisbon was blinded by the bright light of a flashlight.

"Boss!"

Although she couldn't see him, she had never been more happy to hear Cho's voice. "Cho! Thank God. We need an ambulance _now_. Jane's in really bad shape."

She heard Cho calling for an ambulance before jumping down into the shelter and rushing over to them. "Are you okay?" He asked, spotting a trail of dried blood down the back of her head that hadn't been noticeable in the dark.

"I'm fine. But Jane…he hasn't had any food or water in days, he was pretty confused, and then he fell asleep and I haven't been able to wake him up."

Cho leaned forwards to check Jane's pulse, and then did the same with Lisbon. "Here," he said, as he reached into his jacket pocket and tossed her an orange juice box. "Rigsby had it in the car. Thought it might come in handy."

"Jane needs it more," Lisbon whispered, shaking her unconscious friend again in a futile attempt to wake him.

"No. You give him something while he's unconscious, he'll end up choking it or aspirating it. And even if he was conscious, it needs to be done carefully. Too much too fast could kill him."

Lisbon deflated a bit, but nodded. She quickly drank the contents of the juice box and tossed it on the ground beside her. "We need to get him up." She eyed the hatch. It was a good six feet above the ground, with no ladder.

"The paramedics will help with that," Cho said.

"Where are the others? How did you find us?"

"Rigsby and Van Pelt are arresting the son of a bitch. Randall Kirsch. He's the same guy who killed our girl. Neighbour recognized the photo of the girl on the news. She saw him taking three girls out of here one day about six months ago. They were wearing t-shirts, but it was February…that's why she remembered them. She remembered Kirsch wearing the letter jacket that the girl was buried in. Also, they sounded like they were speaking some sort of Eastern European language."

"Human trafficking," Lisbon groaned.

"Yeah. Family-run, looks like. The owner of the house you went to is Kirsch's brother."

"But why take Jane?"

"Don't know. Maybe he stumbled onto something."

Just then, the paramedics arrived, and their conversation became unimportant. The only thing that mattered was getting out of there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Hey," Lisbon said softly.

"Why am I in a hospital?" Jane groaned, slowly opening his eyes.

"What do you remember?"

"You got yourself kidnapped," Jane said, sounding annoyed. "You shouldn't have done that…and then…oh." Jane's face fell slightly as he remembered their conversation. He had said things he hadn't meant for her to ever hear. "Are you okay? How's your head?" Jane asked, making a very obvious attempt to change the subject.

"I'm fine," Lisbon told him. "Some bumps and bruises, but I'm fine."

"How long was I out for?"

"A couple of days," Lisbon said softly. "You were severely dehydrated, and you also had a head injury that you neglected to mention."

Jane frowned. "I don't remember getting one."

"You might have been unconscious. But it caused some swelling in your brain, which only got worse over time. They had to be really careful when they rehydrated you, because that could have made the swelling a lot worse."

Lisbon's anxious yet relieved expression told him everything that she had left out – how they had been worried he might not wake up, that if he woke up he might be a completely different person, that he might have permanent brain damage.

"Well, I'm fine now," Jane said. That wasn't exactly true – he had a headache and felt very tired – but he didn't want to spend a minute longer in the hospital. "When can I go home?"

"They're going to have to do some tests just to make sure everything is okay. After that…well, it depends on the test results, I guess."

"I'm fine," Jane insisted.

"Please just take it easy?" Lisbon implored. The anxiety in her eyes stopped the protest that was forming on Jane's lips.

"Fine," he sighed.

Just then, Lisbon's phone rang. "Lisbon," she answered. Her face fell. "Ugh. Okay. Yeah. I'll be there soon."

She exhaled loudly as she clicked her phone shut. "Kirsch lawyered up…we've been working on him for two days and he hasn't given us anything. But now that we've got DNA proving that he raped the girl, he wants to cut a deal."

"Did he say why we were kidnapped?" Jane asked.

"Not yet," Lisbon sighed.

"Go. I'll be a model patient, I promise," Jane said.

Lisbon gave him a look that clearly said she didn't believe him. "I'll get a nurse on my way out, okay?"

"Sure."

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

As expected, Lisbon was furious to see Jane walk into the observation room a few hours later, where she was watching Cho interview Kirsch and his lawyer.

"I wanted to watch. Maybe take a crack at him," Jane answered, totally nonchalant.

"You should be in the hospital," Lisbon hissed.

"Not according to the doctors," Jane shrugged.

"They told you that you're fine to work?" Lisbon asked doubtfully.

"Err…not exactly," Jane grinned widely. They had wanted to keep him for observation, but he had refused to remain trapped for any longer. "But look at me! I'm fine. What did I miss?" Jane asked, gesturing towards the one-way glass. That was when he noticed Kirsch for the first time. "He was at the crime scene," Jane said, realization dawning on him.

Lisbon glared at him. The man was absolutely insufferable sometimes. "Yes. Apparently he didn't like the way you looked at him. He searched you up, found out what you do, and thought you had picked him out as the killer. So, he took you. He says he wasn't planning on having you for as long as he did – he was going to let you go as soon as he could go into hiding. I have a hard time believing that, but he's insisting. Then when I showed up at the brother's house, they assumed that I was after them too, and things apparently spiraled out of control."

Jane found that he was less interested in what Lisbon was telling him than the way she was telling it. She refused to look at him, and her tone was cold. She wasn't going to forgive him easily, which he found intriguing. Compared to the stunts he usually pulled, checking himself out of the hospital against doctors' recommendations was inordinately tame.

"Look, he's just going through the details. He agreed to name names in exchange for leniency, and the FBI is taking over the case. Go home, get something to eat, have some tea. _Please_," Lisbon implored, finally turning to look at him.

"Well, see, that's the great thing about CBI. I can eat and have tea right here."

"Dammit, Jane! You almost died!" Lisbon didn't think she would ever forget the feeling of utter hopelessness, unable to do anything except hold him as his heartbeat grew weaker with each passing minute.

_Ah_, Jane thought, finally understanding. "I'm okay, Lisbon. Really. But you're right. I almost died because of this man, this case, and I'd like to know why. I'm just watching the interview. No harm in that."

"You're not resting, eating or drinking. So yes, there is harm. And you do know why he took you," Lisbon said. If he didn't remember what she had told him only a minute earlier, then things were much worse than she thought.

"No, I mean I want to know why he killed that girl. I want to know what her name was, so we can stop calling her 'that girl'. I want to know that it won't happen to anyone else." His voice was quiet, but determined. Cases with little kids were always difficult, especially for him.

Jane fixed Lisbon with a penetrating stare. "But you already know the answers to some of my questions, don't you," he stated, observing how she had averted her eyes as he spoke.

"The girl's name was Maria. No last name. She tried to escape, they fought and he killed her."

"Maria," Jane murmured. "What about her parents?"

"Kirsch says she was a street kid in Kiev, parents gone. The FBI is trying to verify, but it's going to be difficult." Lisbon hoped that once Jane had all of his answers, he would finally go home.

"How many others?"

"We're not sure. He's lower level. Most of the details are going to come from the people he names. But that's for the FBI to sort out…and probably Interpol. Please, Jane? Go home. All that's left for us to do now is paperwork."

"Fine," Jane shrugged. He really was feeling exhausted, but he wasn't about to let Lisbon know that.

Lisbon frowned to herself as she watched him leave. _That was too easy_.

* * *

After the interview was complete and Kirsch had been turned over to the FBI, Lisbon went back to her office to pack up her things. As she walked through the bullpen, a familiar sight caught her eye.

Switching course, Lisbon walked over to the couch where her consultant appeared to be asleep.

"Hello, Lisbon," Jane murmured, keeping his eyes closed.

"Jane," Lisbon sighed. "What are you still doing here?"

"I took a taxi here from the hospital. My Citroen is still at the motel. Besides, I missed the couch."

"Well, I'm sure the couch missed you too," Lisbon answered dryly. "Come on. I'll drive you home. We can stop for dinner."

Jane's eyes finally opened. This was Lisbon's way, Jane knew, of making sure that he was taken care of. It was nice, he thought, to have someone care about him like that. He grinned widely at her as he stood up. "Lead the way."

**The End**

* * *

**There we have it! Let me know what you think :)**


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